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See page 38. 



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MEMOIR 



OF 



MARY KING; 



WHO DIED IN 



ROCHESTER, MASS. 



MARCH 3d, 1839. 



'' He shall gather the Iambs with his arm, and carry them in 
his bosom.** laa. xl. 11. 



WRITTEN FOR THE AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, AND 
RETISED BY THE COJ930XTXXJOT PUBLICATION. 




AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 
PHILADELPHIA: 

No. 146 CHESTNUT STREET. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1839, 
by Paul Beck, Jr., Treasurer in trust for the American 
Sunday-school Union, in the Clerk's Office of the District 
Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 




§ 






4 



MEMOIR 



OF 



MARY KING, 



It was a beautiful prayer, which 
is said to have been offered by one 
of the Httle daughters of a mis- 
sionary, ^^make me, dear Saviour, 
the best httle lamb in all thy flock." 
Such a prayer must have been uttered, 
I think, by the little girl whose short 
history I am about to relate for the 
benefit of those who knew and loved 
her, and for all who are just setting 
out in the journey of life. 

Mary King was born in Rochester, 
a town in the eastern part of Massa- 
chusetts, September 11 th, 1 826. Her 
character from her earliest childhood 



6 MEMOIR OF 

was uncommonly lovely. She ap- 
peared different in many respects from 
other little children. If her play- 
things were taken from her, instead 
of pouting and crying, she quietly sub- 
mitted ; if treated with unkindness, 
she never resented it, but appeared 
grieved, and would walk into another 
room where she could be by herself : 
in no instance did she return '' evil for 
evil." 

From very early age, Mary's obe- 
dience was most exact. She did not 
wait to be told twice to do a thing, 
but instantly went to do as she was 
desired. No instance of direct dis- 
obedience is recollected by those who 
had the care of her. 

Mary had a pleasant, but thoughtful 
expression of countenance. It told, 
very expressively, that within her bo- 
som was a soul which must live for- 
ever ; and that she had a few years 
only to do the work of life. 

Religious conversation was of all 
things most agreeable to her. 



MARY KING. 7 

others spoke of God, of heaven, or 
eternity, Httle Mary's ear was ever 
attentive, and at this early period she 
began to improve the opportunities 
given her to seek her Saviour, and 
prepare for heaven. Nor did she 
seek in vain, for He who left this 
sweet promise, " They who seek me 
early shall find me," very soon drew 
near to this little one, and probably 
ere half her short life was spent, seal- 
ed her for his own. 

Mary's love of truth was remark- 
able. The Bible tells us of God's 
^' paths of truth.'' It was when walk- 
ing in these pleasant " paths" that 
Mary found her God, her Saviour, 
her home in heaven. When she was 
four years old, an affecting circum- 
stance took place, which I will relate 
to you. 

Sometimes, you know, mischief is 
done in a family by some one : a nice 
article of furniture is cut or injured, 
or a pane of glass is broken, and no 
one can tell how it happens. Some- 



8 MEMOIR OF 

thing of this kind took place. Great 
injury was done to several articles of 
valuable furniture, which no person 
would be supposed capable of doing, 
except little Mary, and she was too 
young to know that such conduct is 
highly improper. All the children 
were questioned, and it was thought 
impossible that either of the others 
could do such mischief Mary was 
accused of doing it, but she said, calm- 
ly, ^' I did not, father. I do not know 
any thing about it." What was to 
be done? 

New articles were purchased, and 
they shared the same fate. Her pa- 
rents said, '' our little Mary never did 
any thing of this kind : she never told 
a lie, but this may be the first time. 
We cannot have things so ruined. 
What can we do?" 

They thought about it long, for 
they could not bear to lay their hand 
on the dear child, who had never yet 
deserved the rod. At last her father, 
in the sorrow of his heart, said, ''Mary, 



MARY KING. 9 

I must punish you for this mischief. 
I know the other children are inno- 
cent. I do not certainly know that 
you are. Confess it, my child, and I 
will forgive all ; otherwise I must do 
as I have said." Again the trembling 
little one said, '' Father, I did not." 
For she chose to receive the punish- 
ment rather than tell a lie ! — After it 
was inflicted, she looked in her fa- 
ther's face with conscious innocence, 
as she firmly repeated *' I did not," So 
that her father was completely satis- 
fied that the punishment was unde- 
served. I scarcely need say, it was the 
only time in her life that she received 
chastisement. As she lay on her 
deathbed, she spoke of this circum- 
stance, and remarked, that her '^ fa- 
ther did quite right, although she was 
innocent," tenderly wishing to spare 
him any self-reproach after she was 
gone. It was not, however, until Ma- 
ry was laid in the grave that the truth 
was fully revealed, and it was proved 



10 MEMOIR OF 

that not only Mary, but all the child- 
ren were innocent. 

Mary was very kind. She was 
ever ready to favour others rather than 
herself. It was a part of her con- 
stant study to oblige in little things. 
This attractive grace which leads a 
little child to choose to give up its 
own pleasures and comforts to make 
another happy, seems very much like 
that love which overflows in the heart 
of the Saviour. Hence, we are much 
inclined to believe that little Mary 
was from the first a *^lamb of the 
Great Shepherd," whom '^ He carried 
in his arms" all the way, although she 
did not know it until she was older. 

Mary lived several miles from the 
place of worship, and therefore was 
often obliged to stay at home, as all 
the family could not be accommodated 
in the carriage; but she never com- 
plained. Twice only was she ever 
seen in tears when thus denied. As 
she was so gentle and amiable, her 



MARY KING. 11 

young companions loved to have her 
visit them, but when her mother 
thought proper to refuse such invita- 
tions, Mary never pouted or complain- 
ed, but cheerfully submitted. Who 
can number the instances of kindness 
and self-denial in the history of such 
a child, who acts daily and hourly 
under the influence of this blessed 
principle of love to all. 

Little Mary was a pattern of neat- 
ness ; and you will generally observe 
that those children, who are trying to 
be the best little lambs in the fold, 
resemble her in this point. If you 
look much at the works of God, you 
see, in every thing, the perfection of 
neatness, taste, and beauty. Examine 
the cells of the bee, the tints of the 
rose, or the wings of the insect. Order 
and regularity are seen everywhere, 
except where sin has destroyed them. 

When Mary retired at night, her 
clothes were folded neatly, and laid 
just where she could find them in the 
morning. Nothing that belonged to 



12 MEMOIR OF 

her was out of order; her dolls' 
clothes were nicely washed and iron- 
ed by her own little hands, and then 
laid carefully by for use. Her play- 
house was as neat as wax. She sel- 
dom tore her clothes, because her 
motions were very gentle ; but if she 
did, her needle was ready to repair 
the injury, or, if it was too difficult, 
she would take it directly to her sis- 
ters, or mother. Her little toys were 
never destroyed, for Mary would say, 
'' if I do not wish for them now, I may 
some other time ; or, perhaps, some 
other little girl may like to have them, 
and, mother, it is not right to waste 
any thing that will be good for any 
thing to anybody." 

It was so common for Mary to be 
employed, that it is difficult for her 
friends to remember that she had any 
idle moments. Ever ready to assist 
in useful employment, she liked also 
to exercise her taste and ingenuity 
in various kinds of needle-work. In- 
deed this was her favourite occupa- 



MARY KING. 13 

tion until within two days of her 

death. 

In the autunm of 1832, w^hen Mary 
was six years old, her friends observed 
that her mind was more deeply im~ 
pressed with divine things than ever 
before. The following winter a little 
girl, of nearly her own age, came to re- 
side with her, to attend the family 
school under the charge of her eldest 
sister. It was a pleasant circum- 
stance that Mary found in her a sym- 
pathizing friend. Together did these 
little ones daily kneel in prayer. To- 
gether did they delight to sing the 
love of their Redeemer ; and they 
studied and played together in the 
sweetest affection. 

You will notice in this and other 
tilings in Mary's history, how kindly 
the good Shepherd arranged every 
circumstance to help this " little lamb" 
on her w^ay to heaven. 

In the spring of 1834, a revival 
of religion took place in the church 
and congregation where her parents 

2 



14 MEMOIR OF 

worshipped. Mary had before seen 
her two elder sisters and a brother 
also, choose the service of God, 
and profess His name before men. 
Another sister was now in deep 
anxiety, inquiring ''what she should 
do to be saved ;" but a scene still 
more ajffecting was before her. Her 
father, for whom she cherished great 
reverence and love, was filled with 
anguish, in view of his sins against 
a holy God ! — Mary looked on with 
wonder and amazement : — ''If,'' 
thought she, ' ' my beloved father 
needs a change, do not I ? If my 
father, who I think always does right, 
feels himself such a sinner ; am not I 
one ?" But when the forgiving love of 
the Saviour entered his soul, and peace 
came to his troubled mind ; when 
the child beheld the family collecting 
around the altar, now for the first 
time erected in that dwelling ; when 
she heard from the lips of her father 
the voice of praise and supplication, 
her heart was ready to break, she so 



MARY KING. 15 

longed to feel as he did, and know 
from experience that peace which 
God only can give. The first suppli- 
cation from that family altar arose to 
heaven, and brought a blessing on the 
little child who knelt before it ! What 
a lesson for fathers ! For a short 
time Mary felt the deepest distress, 
but soon she was filled with joy and 
gratitude to Him who had forgiven 
her iniquities, and blotted them out, 
as she hoped, forever. 

In Mary's dying hour, she said, 
• that prayer of her father's was the 
means of bringing her to Christ." 
What days of happiness, w^hat hours 
^f j^y were given to her, no one 
knows but the Saviour, who led her 
on, through the few remaining years 
of her journey. 

The following summer Mary at- 
tended a neighbouring school, and here 
she was an example of meekness, gen- 
tleness, and forbearance. It would 
be delightful to gather the testimony 
from her young companions, who love 



16 MEMOIR OF 

to tell what Mary was in scliool. 
''If/' say they, ''we had difficulties 
among ourselves," we carried them to 
Mary. She would always settle them, 
and we thought what she said was 
always right.'' She was the gentle 
peacemaker; and by continually mani- 
festing the spirit of Christ, which is 
very meek and lowly, Mary could 
easily persuade her companions to 
unite in her favourite employment3, 
as I shall tell you. It is worth our 
while to remember, that it is much 
easier to influence others by example 
than by precept. If we show to our 
companions the lovely spirit of Christ 
in our conduct, we shall find it will 
affect them more than any thing we 
can say. 

I have told you how happy Mary 
was in her God and Saviour. She 
loved to w^alk among her flow^ers and 
mark the delicate touches of her Fa- 
ther's hand, and breathe the sweet 
perfume which seemed to her like the 
air of heaven. She loved to notice 



MARY KING. 17 

the ditferent leaves, and trace tlieir 
varied beauty with her pencil. She 
delighted in the music of the birds, as 
they sent up their morning; song ; and 
the green earth, and the shady forest, 
and the rippling brook and the blue 
sky were all dear to Mary. All were 
her Father's Vv^ork. 

Slie could enjoy, too, the cheerful 
sports of her companions ; and in the 
hours of recess, when the children 
were amusing themselves in erecting 
arbours or grottos in the adjoining 
forest, she was ready to assist them 
with her taste and skill. But Mary 
had discovered that there was some- 
thing better than all these, and, leav- 
ing her little friends, she would take 
the hand of one, and together they 
would glide away into some lonely 
spot, in the deep shade, where they 
would kneel and pray to their hea- 
venly Father, Who knows but the 
comforts which clustered around her 
bed of death, making her pillow soft 
and easy, were laid up here ! It was 



18 MEMOIR OF 

just what she would have done, had 
she known how soon she was to he 
down in the grave. But Mary did 
not know it, for it was in her bioom 
and freshness, when joy smiled in all 
her steps, that she so loved to tm n 
aside to commune with her Saviour. 
O ! I think, if the angels ever visit 
our world, they jiuist have surroimd- 
ed those infants in that silent retreat. 
Those. prayers surely v/ent up into 
the ear of Him who ordains praise 
from the mouth of babes ! At such 
moments she could sing with the 
young shepherd of Israel, as he led 
his flock " in the green pastures and 
by the still waters"-^'' Thou hast 
made me full of joy with thy counte- 
nance." Have Vie ever known such 
joy as this ? 

We have seen that in early life, 
Mary was a child of truth, obedience, 
submission, industry, neatness, &c., 
but there were other traits which be- 
came more remarkable, after she had 
been fully taught of God. Wheji a 



MARY KING. 19 

person has given his heart to the 
Lord Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit 
comes to dwell in his bosom. This is 
true of little children also. He takes 
up his abode, and makes the soul of a 
child his home, his dwelling-place. 
This accounts for many things in a 
pious child's conduct, which are alto- 
gether unlike those which proceed 
from the natural heart. 

You have noticed in a company of 
children, some one more beautifully 
dressed than others. This is particu- 
larly true in the country, vvhere all 
classes mingle together. In such 
companies it is often the case^ that a 
few are poorly clad in comparison 
with the rest, their parents being un- 
able to dress them better. Mary was 
always very neatly, but plainly dress- 
ed; her parents rightly judging, that 
the ^sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks 
of childhood need no ornament. 

One afternoon a few of Mary's 
companions came to visit her, among 
whom was a little girl arrayed in very 



20 MEMOIR OF 

rich and gay attire. She observed 
the contrast between her own dress 
and that of her companions, and very 
soon separated herself with an air of 
pride from her associates, and took 
Mary's arm. Mary instantly saw 
what was proper to be done, and, in- 
stead of being pleased with the dis- 
tinction intended, she gently extri- 
cated herself from her companion, and 
returning to the rest of her little com- 
pany, succeeded in soothing their feel- 
ings, which had been somewhat dis- 
turbed by the conduct of the vain 
little girl. And thus it was ever her 
delight to avoid censure on the one 
hand, and take the part of the injured 
on the other. After they w^ere gone, 
she expressed much sorrow at the 
conduct of the poor child, who was 
certainly to be pitied for her finery, 
which so much diminished her enjoy- 
ment. 

When Mary heard a remark made 
against any absent person, it was her 
custom to take his part. Even the 



MAPvY KING. 21 

abandoned and wicked were objects 
of her compassion, and not of her 
censure. In the school of Christ, 
Mary was taught to " speak evil of 
none/' and ^Ho be kind to the evil 
and unthankful." It was a charming 
trait of character, and a very good 
test, by which all may decide whether 
they have the spirit of Christ or not. 
Do we endeavour, as she did, always 
to think well of the motives of others, 
and judge with kindness of their con- 
duct? 

It is a very easy thhig to lose a 
Sabbath. Only let the thoughts 
wander here and there, and let the 
eyes rove to and fro in the house of 
God, without setting a watch at the 
door of the heart, and Satan will 
come in with his foolish suggestions, 
and the Sabbath, with its golden op- 
portunities, will slip away. Mary was 
careful not to lose her Sabbaths. She 
prized them as seasons of improve- 
ment, when she could obtain know- 
ledge and strength to go on in her 



#• 



22 MEMOIR OF 

Christian course. Her companions 
remember the thoughtful expression 
of her large dark eye, as she sat in 
the corner of the pew in the house of 
God, earnestly gazing at the preacher, 
as if she would not lose a word. Yes, 
and in the Sabbath-school, Mary was 
never found, without a lesson tho- 
roughly prepared. Her teacher often 
spoke of her serious and earnest at- 
tention to instruction, and of the 
beauty of her example in the class. 
But, although she so loved the wor- 
ship of God, she was often deprived 
of its privileges. On one occasion, 
when she did not expect to go to 
meeting, her mother asked her if she 
would like to go ? With tears of joy, 
she replied, " Mother, you know I al- 
ways wish to go to meeting." But 
to satisfy Mary's thirst for instruc- 
tion, and to iaid the other members of 
the family, her parents conducted a 
Sabbath-school at home ; and through 
the remaining years of sickness and 
suffering, Mary was permitted to en- 



MARY KING. 23 

joy at home the sweet exercises of 
prayer, praise and study of the Bible, 
which her more healthful and favour- 
ed companions could enjoy at school. 
At the age of eleven, Mary's health 
began to decline, and during the re- 
mainder of her life she was seldom 
able to attend church, or even walk 
abroad. Before this period, the pro- 
vidence of God brought to the family 
an aunt, who was much distinguished 
for her piety, and w^io was very ill. 
Here she came to close her days : af- 
fording to the Uttle pilgrim a bright 
illustration of the manner in which a 
Christian could die ; she hngered 
many months in great suffering, sup- 
ported and cheered by the presence 
of her Saviour. In her sick-room, 
Mary passed many delightful hours, 
reading to her aunt and conversing 
with her of eternal things. She saw 
her descend to the grave, and was 
present when her triumphant spirit 
departed to the skies. It was a fre- 
quent remark of the dying woman, 



24 MEMOIR OF 

that ^* Mary would quickly follow, and 
that the divine Spirit was preparing 
the child for a higher society and no- 
bler employments." 

Mary continued feeble until the 
winter of 1837-38, when she was ob- 
liged to quit her school; but she was 
so much attached to books, that she 
could not give up study. Every day 
she voluntarily committed her lessons 
and recited them to her sisters, and 
during the last summer of her life, 
her lessons were a part of her daily 
employment. While confined almost 
wholly to her bed, she had a lesson 
ready to recite whenever her sister 
could attend to her. 

Natural Philosophy was one of 
her favourite studies. Indeed, most of 
her exercises showed an uncommonly 
mature mind. One often forgot, while 
conversing with her, that she was in 
years but a child; and her physician 
remarked, that he " very rarely met 
with a patient of adult age, who could 
give so clear and distinct an account 



MARY KING. 25 

of her case, and the symptoms of dis- 
ease as Mary did. Her Bible was 
always at her side. She often con- 
versed freely in relation to her feel- 
ings, and exhibited perfect resignation 
to the will of God, whether it be that 
she should live or die. 

In the latter part of November, she 
appeared unusually dejected, and on 
inquiry it appeared that her evidence 
of piety seemed, in her own view, 
quite gone, and the comforts which so 
long cheered her spirit had departed. 
The views of her sinful heart were 
very distressing. She doubted her 
sincerity, and it seemed as if the ad- 
versary was permitted to ^^erplex and 
grieve her continually w5ch fears. She 
complained that she oOuld not keep 
her mind on her Saviour, nor upon 
the great truths jf God's word as 
formerly. Long and anxiously did 
her parents pray that she might again 
enjoy the hght of God's countenance, 
which had so often made her glad. 

At length her mother said, " Why 



26 MEMOIR OF 

should you distress yourself so, Mary? 
I think you love God ; if you do not, 
why should you so delight in the so- 
ciety of Christians ? Why should you 
love prayer and your Bible ! You 
should consider, Mary, God has help- 
ed you to be a very lovely, obedient 
child. You know you never told a 
falsehood, or willingly disobeyed your 
parents, and how can you think your- 
self the greatest of sinners ?" ^' Mo- 
ther, I know it," replied the weeping 
child, ^' but that is not the thing. My 
heart is no better than others — I fear 
my motives are selfish. My prayers, 
I fear, are only a form. If I had 
been placed in the circumstances of 
others, my iMe might have been just 
as wicked. God looks at the heart, 
mother." 

It was during tas severe trial that 
the writer was requested to call and 
see her. I found little Mary bathed 
in tears. Her Saviour was gone. I 
repeated the precious promises to 
her, but no argument or promise 



MARY KING. 27 

seemed to relieve her. She reasoned 
with the accuracy of an enlightened 
adult, and I sat wondering, why it 
was, that the Shepherd had forsaken 
this '^little lamb." As I repeated 
some encouraging words from the 
Bible, *'0, yes," she said, I know them 
all. They are all true, but I fear 
they do not apply to me." 

" Mary," said I, '^ you have lived a 
life of prayer?" 

She paused a moment, and replied, 
'' Yes, the form of prayer, but I fear it 
was not from the heart." 

" Well, you are sincere 9207V, 
Mary?" " Yes, I know that of all 
things in the world, I desire to be 
God's dear child." 

But the night was short with Mary. 
The morning dawned. Her doubts 
and fears fled before the beams of the 
Sun of Righteousness, and she now 
condemned herself for even doubting 
the truth and love of such a friend as 
Christ. 

During the last weeks of Mary's 



28 MEMOIR OF 

life she occupied herself with some 
favourite needle-work. Lying pros- 
trate on her bed, she executed, with 
great neatness and taste, many little 
articles, such as needle-books, cush- 
ions, &c. for gifts of remembrance. 
She loved this employment exceed- 
ingly. One morning her sister was 
reading an account of a little girl who 
had long been confined to her bed, 
and who employed herself in a similar 
way, who was also a very pious child. 
*^ I am glad to hear that," exclaimed 
Mary, *' for I have been troubled about 
my love of sewing. You know it is 
WTitten, ' Little children, keep your- 
selves from idols.' I do not wish to 
make an idol of it, but when employ- 
ed, my thoughts seem more fixed on 
God than when I am doing nothing." 
Her sister, who was her constant at- 
tendant, spent much time in reading 
aloud in Pilgrim's Progress, memoirs 
of pious children, and other similar 
works. But the Bible she loved best 
of all. '' O, Elizabeth, how I love 



MARY KING. 29 

that book," said Mary earnestly one 
morning, as her sister opened it to 
read. " Can you make these promises 
all your own?" asked Elizabeth. 
^' O yes, I love to think of them and 
my Saviour." After a young friend, 
who passed the night had left her, 
she said, " I wish Mary had convers- 
ed more. I delight to hear her talk, 
because she is a Christian, and she 
loves to talk about rehgion." 

Sometimes she would desire her 
sister to ''read a chapter and ask her 
questions, to see if she understood it," 
thus making it the food of her soul. 

No complaint escaped her lips dur- 
ing these weeks of wasting sickness, 
nor, indeed, was she known to com- 
plain from the first. In her prayers 
she thanked God, for ''laying His 
hand on her so lightly, and that she 
was spared the severe pain which 
others felt." But I hasten to the 
closing scene. 

On Sabbath, a week before her 
death, her mother was sitting by, as 

3* 



30 MEMOIR OF 

the family had not yet returned from 
meeting, and remarked, '^ It is hard 
to be sick, Mary." *^ O, no mother, 
if we have the Saviour v^ith us, it 
is easy. I do not find it hard at all." 
A long conversation ensued, in w^hich 
she expressed, with great clearness, 
her present expectations of happi- 
ness. She spoke much of her past 
life, and the comforts which had been 
scattered along her path ; of the sweet 
hours with her dear companions, of 
the happy family prayer-meetings 
held on Saturday evening in her 
aunt's sick-room. During this con- 
versation, her father entered, and took 
the Bible to read. ** Father," said 
she, " will you pray now, and not de- 
fer it till the usual hour? I wish 
to have you do it now, before my 
mind is drawn away from my Saviour ! 

''What shall I pray for, Mary?" 
said her father. ► 

'' That I may be resigned to the will 
of God, and have more faith." When 
the prayer had been offered, her fa- 



MARY KING. 31 

ther said, '' Did you enjoy it as you 
expected, Mary ?" 

" Yes, and by an eye of faith I see 
the Beautiful City. Father, I see the 
great white throne. And I can see, 
too, my Saviour hanging on the cross 
for sinners." 

'' Mary, you will soon be in that 
City," said her father, ^'for to human 
appearance you can continue but a 
short time. Are you wilhng to die?" 
She looked up sweetly, and replied, 
" If I could have it just as I wished, I 
would stay a little longer ; but I am 
perfectly willing to go, if it is the will 
of God. I feel no fear when I think 
of my body being put in the ground ; 
but do not weep so, dear father and 
mother, for it cannot save my life." 
" Mary," said her father, '^ you know 
you are our dear child, and we can- 
not help feeling sorrow at parting." 
''- 1 know it, father, but I can as well go 
now as at any time. It gives me no 
sorrow to hear you say, that I must 



S2 MEMOIR OF 

die. I cannot weep, although I love 
you all.'' She then looked up to her 
mother and said, " I wish we could 
have a prayer-meeting, such as we 
used to have." A number of friends 
came in, and never will they forget 
that scene. There lay the wasted 
form of little Mary, her lips speaking 
with emphasis of the love and good- 
ness of her Saviour ; her soul review- 
ing all the way in which she had been 
led, down to this hour of peace and 
joy, and like the saints and prophets 
in all past ages, speaking of His won- 
derful faithfulness. 

At length the spectators of this in- 
teresting scene retired, leaving only 
Elizabeth with her. She inquired of 
Mary if she was not greatly fatigued ? 
" Yes, in body, but not in mind. 1 
could say much more, but it is not 
best now, perhaps. Do not weep so, 
dear Elizabeth ; but though you weep 
now, you will rejoice ; I know you 
will, for the Bible says you shall." 



MARY KING. 33 

She then requested her sister to unite 
with her, while she poured out her 
soul to God in prayer. 

That night she rested comfortably, 
but was too low the next morning to 
read as usual in the Bible, and her 
sister read to her. She then express- 
ed a desire to pray with her mother 
and sister, and on being asked, if the 
others should be called in, said she 
had no objection. In this prayer 
none were forgotten. An absent bro- 
ther was tenderly remembered. A 
faithful domestic also, who had lived 
many years in the family, was fer- 
vently commended to God. She 
^' could not bear," she said, '' to have 
C. lost. She must go to Christ and 
be saved." 

In the course of the day, her aunt 
and her sisters came in to see her. 
Mary saw they were deeply affected 
by her altered appearance, and she 
entreated them not to weep. "Do 
not be silent, but sew and talk as 
usual : you see there is nothing to 



34 MEMOIR OF 

fear. Why should you be agitated, 
and be afraid of death ? I am not." 

After this she spoke but httle, and 
that in whispers. 

The day before she breathed her 
last, I called once more to see her. 
Her mother met me with a smile. 
''Are you not exhausted?'' I inquired. 
'' O, no, I have indeed much to do, but 
no anxious cares. All is well with 
Mary. There is nothing to fear for 
her." I entered the chamber of death, 
for it was evident that the last enemy 
was there, and Mary's end was at 
hand. She was pale and emaciated 
to a great degree ; but very sweet 
were her accents, as she replied to 
my inquiry ''how she was ?" — " More 
feeble, but happy." " All is well, 
Mary?" "Yes, I trust so." 

She had a comfortable night. The 
next morning, as her mother offered 
to her lips a tea-spoonful of cold 
water, she fell back, and like an infant 
gently closed her eyes in death. 



1 



MARY KING. 35 



ORIGINAL LINES BY A YOUTHFUL 
FRIEND OF MARY'S. 

A TENDER lamb was seen below, 
An heir of sin and death and wo ; 
The blessed Shepherd heard it sigh, 
And love shone mildly in his eye. 

He laid it softly to his breast. 
And soothed its little woes to rest ; 
"This lamb is mine," he gently said, 
And breath'd a blessing on its head. 

A few short years on earth it dwelt, 
Its Shepherd's love and kindness felt ; 
He guarded it from every fear ; 
In danger's hour was always near. 

Death lays his hand upon it now, 
A mortal paleness clothes its brow ; 
But see ! beneath its drooping head, 
The Shepherd's gracious arm is laid ! 

He bears it on, through death's cold flood, 
All purified by his own blood. 
Presents it at his Father's throne, 
And God accepts it as his own. 



THE END, 



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